Catman
by DearMisterPsychopath
Summary: Before there was Batman, there was Bruce Wayne... The grand adventures of Bruce (and Alfred ) on his path of legitimate heroism. "What do you think Alfred?" "That that's a far outcry from the truth sir," Alfred replied,"And the use of 'legitimate' is downright suspicious."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: We all know why I'm here, and it's not to sell candy. I do not own any of the Batman copyrights, and if I did, it will be some other disclaimer disclaiming this. (But if it makes you feel better , you can always pretend)

Catman

June 16th xoxx

"Okay Alfred, look ahead."  
Alfred stared and stared and stared.  
"Well..." Bruce said,"What do you think?"  
"I think watching squirrels mate isn't the best of hobbies, sir. Even if that's how you get your rocks off," Alfred said, now reading the Gotham Times.  
"No, the charts! The first one," he said pointing,"Shows the daily increase in crimes within the city..."  
"If that chart is accurate, then in two weeks we'll be buglared by the police, and Action man will be our saviour."  
"My point exactly! The second chart shows the Gotham police's success rate in solving crimes against the overall crime rate."  
"Your chart says the police is virtually non-existent."  
"They are. If they weren't, lots of politicians and rich businessmen will be in jail, including me," Bruce said staring Alfred in the eye. He continued, "The last chart shows the success rate of criminals evading costume wearing badasses/nerdy heroes comic con wannabe desprados."  
"It's low, sir. Very low."  
"Indeed. There've only been three important costumed heroes ever resident in Gotham: Captain Gotham, Fagman and some other guy," he shrugged.  
"This proves that as long as I'm costumed I can attack people and break stuff." Bruce continued,"Now, I'm going as 'The Midnight Stranger', so I need a cloak, a cape, gloves, lots and lots of rubber, bulletproff, body armour, a jet pack and a utility belt that has a force field projecting device that can deflect lazers and protect me from ricotte that my bulletproff and body armour can't stop. Did you get that down?"  
"Why not a balacavah, sir, like everyone else?"

Author's note: Oh my! Never thought I'll see you here! You too? Quite the surprise, I'll say. (I know you know that was expecting you, but we can always pretend). Hope you enjoyed your read. Found it intriguing, did you? Ah, flattery... Your being honest? That's good! Yes, reviews would good too, and constructive criticism will be appreciated. As for flames...  
REMEMBER, I'm the one the gun (and chainsaw). 


	2. Chapter 2

Happy birthday to all you out there! This chapter isn't your birthday present, but the next one is ~

Disclaimer: This disclaimer is really bored of disclaiming. So it has only disclaimed for one chapter so far, but still, enough is enough! I don't own Batman and the shadow organisation known as D.C.

May 24th xoxx

Bruce Wayne sat on his chair deep in thought. It was night now, and he waiting for a sign. Any sign, that will give him an idea as to how he can get away with breaking several severe human rights outside work using acts of violence. He already had a "reason" : fighting crime.  
"How about a secret identity, sir?" Alfred suggested, placing down the pure silver tray carrying a $475 bottle of Dom Perignon, a stencilled swan patterned wine glass worth $6000 and a plate of sushi with wooden chopsticks on the coffee table by his high backed, soft leather chair. He then opened the bottle and poured the overpriced liquid into the Wayne family heirloom wine glass, filing it halfway before walking out of the room the same way he came in.  
God I hate sushi, Bruce thought, bringing out a small bottle of barbecue sauce from his pocket, emptying the contents on his sushi before bringing out his trusty fork to eat them. Barbecue sauce, God's best gift to man. The holy liquid that showed cannibals how to make their mystery meat well loved by everyone else. Barbecue... Barbecue man! Barbecue dude? . Barbecued stake! Wayne Barbecue. Bar... The Kebab! Yes, that's it! The Kebab! Bruce leaped to his feet. "Alfred call the tailor! I need a kebab suit!"  
"I'll have your psychologist on the phone, sir."

Author's notes: A wise man is a dead man. Hold on. I think I mixed something up. 


End file.
